


The Horsewoman and Son

by alicy_sunberg33



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: But only stuff regarding the Kryn, Campaign 2 (Critical Role), Confused Teenager, Critical Role Lore, Dwendalian Empire (Critical Role), Family Feels, Kryn Dynasty (Critical Role), Mother-Son Relationship, Multi, Original Story - Freeform, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Reincarnation, Road Trips, Spoilers for Campaign 2, not Mighty Nein stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-08-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26211586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicy_sunberg33/pseuds/alicy_sunberg33
Summary: Near the city of Nugvurot, in a small road town called Erlend, teenagers had started to disappear. As Armèle Cavaleira, single half-elven mother of one son, Lazlo, handled her small family business of stables, she started to notice some changes in her son’s behavior. She will soon learn the truth behind them and will need to make a choice that will change both of their lives forever.As you may understand you will hardly find any Critical Role characters in here. This is an experiment, an exploration of a concept that was barely approached in the show that has yet to be developed further : being reincarnated outside of Xhorhas and the Kryn Dynasty. So if you’re interested, take a read!
Relationships: Mother & Son
Kudos: 4





	The Horsewoman and Son

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned before, this is a completely original work with little to none mentions of our favorite hobo family. I will take some liberties and put original characters and just throw them into the complex political setting that is Wildemount, slightly before the beginning of the adventures of the mighty Nein.
> 
> DISCLAIMER : I know next to nothing about what it’s like to be a single parent nor do I know what it’s like to have PTSD. I will try to write about it with the utmost respect and as accurate as possible with someone who at the very least, informed herself on the subjects but I will never pretend to know what it’s like. Knowing this, if this endeavor makes you uncomfortable in any way, feel free to drop the read, no hard feelings!
> 
> OTHER DISCLAIMER : English is not my mother tongue, so if you notice any grammar, syntax or orthograph mistakes or even a better expression, feel free to inform me of it! 
> 
> Without further ado, let’s get this show started!

## Chapter 1 : Secrets in the Rain

A thunderstorm was falling down the Zemni Fields and along the Glory Run Road. It started at dusk and was still going strong well into the night.

Armèle opened her eyes wide with a sharp inhale. She was panting. She felt her sheets wet in her back, her shift was soaked from sweat and tears. Her hair sticking to her neck and forehead. 

Her window was open, shutter up, supported by a miserable twig and a rope but that was enough. Outside, the rain storm was still pouring, and she had woken up to the distant sound of thunder. She exhaled and closed her eyes, listening to the rain. Calming her panting slowly. 

Nothing was better than rain to make the difference between reality and dream... reality and memory. Outside, all was quiet as the rain was pouring and bringing down the cleansing waters on the earth that had heated up all day, waiting for that moment. Her mind had waited for it, longed for it, and welcomed it as a blessing. 

After a while, she realized she wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep and got up. She went down the stairs as quietly as she could to the common room.

As she took her cloak from the hanger next to the door and pulled it over her shoulders, she heard the wooden floor creak behind her and she cursed inside. She turned her head to see a teenage boy, her boy, his curly brown unruly hair defying gravity, but still falling on his eyes –he had to constantly swipe them on the side with a shake of his head–, his clear green eyes full of confusion and sleep, his small ears finishing in a point, remnant of his elven heritage he got from her, his light brown skin and freckles catching the shy light of the lamp she just lit up. 

She was about to admonish him for being out of bed at this hour when she noticed he was barely looking at her. He looked around as if lost, as if he discovered this common room for the first time, even though he took his first steps here. 

“Lazlo,” she called. Her voice sounded rough, partly because she spoke after sleeping for a while, but mostly because it was her own voice, that sounded harsher than she ever wanted it to. She hated it.

Lazlo didn’t seem to react. She walked up to him, touching his arm. He jumped at the contact and looked at her, frowning and surprised.

“Lazlo? You should be in bed,” she said, trying to sound softer and calm him.

There was a long pause as he stared at her, as if trying to remember something.

“Ma’,” he finally said. His voice was starting to break at his age, and he would soon reach the more adult tone, but not quite yet. As soon as he called her, he seemed to instantly be at ease.

“That’s me,” she smiled, trying to be reassuring. It must have been a very bad dream for him to be in such a state. “What’s going on, kitten. Nightmare? Looks like it was a pretty intense one...”

She ruffled his hair softly, and he usually hated when she did that but that seemed to be needed at the moment, and he let her, almost leaning into the touch, as he nodded. 

“You too?” he asked and she smiled bitterly.

“Meh. Nothing special. I was feeling antsy anyway. Do you feel sleepy at all?”

“Not really.”

“Alright then. Go get your shoes, let’s go see how the horses are doing, hm?”

He nodded with a bit more energy, a shy smile, and climbed the stairs back up. As he turned his back to her, Armèle lost her smile.

She was worried. As any children would when they were young, they could have nightmares about monsters, ghosts and such. Many times when he was a young child, she let Lazlo climb in her bed at night after a bad dream and they would reach slumber together. When he got older, he was having less of them, and had stopped coming to her altogether. If he had a restless night, he would just go downstairs, drink some water, watch the fields at night, and then go back to sleep. 

These days, however, he had especially bad ones, almost like hers. It it was anything like hers it couldn’t be good... And she couldn’t figure out how this started, what brought this on. She hesitated asking his friends for anything in fear they would clam up. And when she asked, either he couldn’t recall, or he grew impatient with her questions and walked away. 

“You never tell me about yours, why should I tell you about mine...” He said this to her once, when he was especially frustrated at her prying and it had shocked her. This ended with a tense silence and since then, Armèle stopped to insist.

Now, when the two of them met outside of their beds at night, they would get to work instead and sleep better the following night. It probably wasn’t the best way to fix the issue. But it was the only thing Armèle could think of. And if she was honest with herself, she quite enjoyed it. 

Working with him in the dead of the night, as if they were alone in the world and their stables, with their horses, and they would just enjoy each other’s presence quietly, until their restless hearts finally calmed down. 

When it rained, sometimes they would just sit together on the porch and listen. When he was young, Armèle used to try and calm him with the rain when there was a storm outside. It could lull them back to sleep quite easily. Sometimes they would even watch the lightning crack through the clouds in wonder. If there was a big storm they would spend the night with the horses and calm them down.

It was their way of sharing secrets, without saying a word. It was their mother-son moment. 

And yet, somehow, it seemed to worsen for him. Every night he had a nightmare, he looked more confused about things around him, about her... Tonight had been especially bad.

As they inspected the twelve horses in the stables and made sure they were calm, and resting, Armèle opened a haystack and they started to fill the boxes. The horses that were awake happily munched in the fresh new food and when they were done, Armèle and Lazlo would watch the pregnant mare, Dilah, that was due soon, as she slept peacefully, leaning their forearms on the wooden door.

Armèle threw a quick glance at Lazlo. His usual expression when watching over Dilah was one of endearment and calm. This time however he barely seemed to acknowledge her, seemingly lost in thought, in a deeper state she’d previously seen him in before.

“She’s going to be due soon. Any day, now,” Armèle said, waking him up from his reverie but only barely. He nodded slowly. “We’re going to need the Druid,” she added.

At this, Lazlo perked up. His eyes had an excited glint.

“Can I go get him?”

Armèle was opening her mouth to object, but saw his face and closed it. He looked eager, almost desperate to go. She thought about it.

“You remember the way to the hut?”

“Yeah!”

“It might be longer than just a day, you might have to stay the night there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time!”

“It will be the first time on your own.”

“It’s not far, I know where to hide on the path, it’ll be fine!”

Armèle stared at him and she saw him flinch. She knew she tended to have a stern face, that could easily intimidate anyone that looked back. But Lazlo held it in, showing her a determined face. She chuckled.

“Alright. You can go.”

He pumped his fist in victory. She raised an eyebrow.

“Gee, you look like you cannot wait to be out of your mother’s loving arms, huh?” she grinned and he scoffed. 

“It’s not that! It’s just like, the first time you let me go run an errand on my own like this.”

“I make you run plenty of errands on your own,” Armèle raised an eyebrow at him. 

“In town. That barely counts,” he deadpanned.

“Because I know you will do the job quickly and safely,” Armèle assured.

“I can do the job quickly and safely out of town! Plus you’ve taken me to his place before, I know the way,” Lazlo countered, annoyed.

“Which is why I’m telling you you can go!” Armèle said, exasperated.

“Great!!” he replied on the same tone.

As they were raising their voice, they heard a snort in front of them and saw Dilah who was awake and looking at them quietly, shifting her ears to the side and to the front.

“We woke her up.”

“Sorry, Dilah. We’ll leave you now, old girl.”

“It’s because you were too loud.”

“Oh, _I_ was too loud? Hello, nice to meet you, kettle.”

Arméle swung her arm around his shoulders and they walked back, Lazlo trying to stifle his snicker. By the time they finished their morning preparations for the stables, the sun was rising behind the hills, pushing back the raining cloud further down the valley. They continued to bicker while sitting on the slippery closing. 

“Shit, now my butt is wet!”

Armèle clicked her tongue at his swearing, he made an annoyed face back at her.

“Sorry. I meant, OH DEAR, now my butt is wet.”

“Don’t sass me, punk. Watch your language.”

He scoffed and they let quiet rule over them as the sun colored the sky for the new day. 

“C’mon. Let’s go have some breakfast.”

“Hell yeah. I’m starving.”

They walked the path back up to their small home next to the stables, and the day started, both apparently deciding to ignore the events of the night. Until the next nightmare.


End file.
